


Pack Street: Sickness

by MisterEAnon



Series: Pack Street: Through The Looking Glass [5]
Category: Pack Street - Fandom, Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9395816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterEAnon/pseuds/MisterEAnon
Summary: Carrie's been sick. And for the past few days, Remmy's been happy to check on her while on his way home. But she's been giving him some concerning looks.It turns out that there's more then just physical anxieties plaguing his signifigant other, and that dealing with complicated, messy feelings is just as messy as any sickness of the body.(Written for Thematic Thursday. Theme: Illness.)





	

There were probably a whole lot of benefits with predator/prey relationships. I was still something of a novice in the subject, having only 'dated' one predator in my life, but there was one benefit I was already thankful for:

 

Prey couldn't catch predator diseases.

 

There weren't an awful lot of maladies out there that could cross species-barriers, and the pred/prey divide was no different. As a result, I could take care of Carrie intimately without fear, so long as I took a long shower before I left. I doubted anyone back home would appreciate it if I acted like a carrier and got the pack sick, or something.

 

As usual, we were naked. Carrie was naked, as she usually was around the house, and she seemed to appreciate baring her fur to the air a little more in her sickness. I was naked because I had gotten used to it, strangely enough. That, and it would probably help prevent me from carrying whatever she had on my clothes.

 

Even now, I always appreciated getting the chance to come over. I couldn't stay over all the time, of course- I had my own house, with my own food, and Carrie hadn't asked me to stay with her more permanently. I also had my own schedule: Hitting the gym regularly had given me a little structure in my life beyond working and existing, which I was grateful for. Making sure she was still doing okay wasn't any kind of strain on me.

 

For the past few days, I'd been visiting Carrie. It wasn't hard, of course: Her house was halfway through my walk home as it always was, so it wasn't any extra trouble for me to come in. Having some  _ actual _ air conditioning was always a perk, to say nothing of the company.

 

But the wolf had been giving me guilty, anxious looks now and again, and I knew I had to ask her about it today. I didn't know what the problem was, and I felt a distinct hesitancy in bringing it up, but I could already tell it was something that needed to be addressed one way or another.

 

I just wasn't quite sure how to bring it up.

 

I sighed quietly, leaning into the wolf's side and cuddling up against her. We were sitting on the couch together- According to Carrie, the ceiling fan in the living room was the best out of all of the ones in her apartment, which was apparently something she liked when she was sick.

 

She leaned back into me, screwing her eyes shut as she held back a sneeze. She wiped groggily at her nose with a paw for a moment before reaching for the recently-relocated tissue box nearby. “Hey,” she murmured, tail wagging quietly.

 

“Hey,” I replied in kind, my voice low and soft. “You doing alright?”

 

“I'm hot and I can't smell shit,” she replied, wiggling in her seat a little to lean back against me. “But I'm managing.”

 

I could hear it- Her voice was stuffy, except for a brief time after she blew her nose. Then, it was just muted. Aside from when her nose was actively running, though, it seemed like she was her regular-old self, as if pretending her illness wasn't there. I could understand, since I did much the same thing when I was only a little under the weather.

 

I ruffled her fur with a hoof idly. It was still soft, despite her sickness- She'd managed to coax me into the shower with her recently, and I'd made sure to work the conditioner in. I figured it might make her feel a little better- And I could tell she'd appreciated it, since her fur was mostly kept well-groomed since the last time I saw her. “I can agree on at least one of those,” I joked quietly, wrapping my arms around the tilted wolf to pull her into a hug.

 

“Shh,” she retorted, even as she leaned closer and rubbed her muzzle into my chest. “You're sweet, Rem.”

 

I idly slipped a hoof under her chin, rubbing the fur back. She seemed to appreciate it, and it felt natural to do. “If you're so hot, why are you cuddling up to a sheep? Wool's pretty warm,” I pointed out, making absolutely no effort whatsoever to dissuade her.

 

“Mmm… Worth it,” she stated, tilting her head and pressing her cheek into my wooly chest. I slipped my hoof from under her muzzle to over her head, stroking the fur back. “God— I always thought sheep looked soft, but it feels so much better then it looks. I don't think I'll ever get over it,” she admitted with a small laugh. She was sniffling now and then, screwing her eyes shut as she rubbed at them with a paw, but her tone was unaffected. She seemed content to ignore her physical ailments, so I elected to follow suit.

 

“Oh, so you only like me for my wool, huh? Is that it?” I mussed up her ears, watching them prop themselves right back up after. “I bet you wouldn't keep me around when I'm all sheared.”

 

“Nah. You're still good enough in bed to keep, but the wool is a definite plus,” she replied, making me sputter. Despite the casual nudity, I hadn't really even been thinking about it until she brought it up.

 

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. It didn't stop me from cuddling up to her, though, so she probably knew I wasn't really bothered.

 

I closed my eyes, and cuddled against her. She sniffled now and again, and jerked away to sneeze into one of her tissues, but other than that, it was a positive experience. Having someone I could get so physical with, in or out of bed, had really done wonders for my stress levels.

 

So of course, now seemed the appropriate time to ruin it. “Hey,” I spoke up, leaning away from her. “I, uh…”

 

I paused, and she looked at me with concern. “Yeah?”

 

“I… Noticed you've been looking a little anxious, recently,” I pointed out, not really sure where I was going with this. I knew enough that it was something I  _ should _ address, just not exactly how. “Aside from being sick, is everything okay?”

 

There it was. She gave me that anxious, guilty look. “Yyyeah,” she lied, entirely unconvincingly. “Why would-”

 

“You're doing it right now,” I gently interrupted her.

 

“ Shoot, ” she grumbled, glancing away. “It's- it's nothing.”

 

I shook my head. “It's bothering you, so it's not nothing,” I rebutted. “I'm… Not really great at this sort of thing-” My most well-honed social skill was the art of putting my hoof in my mouth, something I was pointedly trying to avoid. “-But I don't want you to feel bad about whatever it is.”

 

She wasn't even trying to hide it, now. She glanced away, pulling away from our snuggle as she sat up straight. “It's not your fault, though. You don't have to worry about it.”

 

I frowned. “That's… Not the point,” I said, spying her paw lying on the couch and gently laying my hoof across it. “I'm going to worry about it if it's bothering you, anyway.”

 

Carrie sighed, leaning back into the couch, making a face as she wiped her nose. She'd had the foresight to drag the trash-can to the side of the couch today. “You're too good for me, Remmy,” she muttered. “That's the problem.”

 

Um. “I'm not sure I understand,” I replied carefully. “Is it—”

 

She shook her head before I could finish my sentence. “Believe me, it's not you.  **You** are great, Rem. You're the best thing in my life… And I don't want that.”

 

She was still looking away from me, but now she was talking loudly enough for me to hear her clearly, anyway. I gave her paw a gentle squeeze. “I think you should explain,” I encouraged her.

 

I had no idea what she was talking about, and it gave me a distinct sinking feeling that I tried not to let show.

 

“ Yeah. Yeah, I— I guess you do deserve to know,” she agreed, wiping her nose reflexively with her arm before making a face and starting to wipe at her arm with a tissue. “I'm just… Lost. I've been on Flock Street for a long time now, but everyone around here can't see past my species enough to get comfortable with me.”

 

To be completely honest, I doubted I'd be comfortable with her before living in Pack Street, either. The only thing that separated me from Carrie's neighbors were my circumstances, and I elected to not bring that up. “Yeah?”

 

“ Mm. So, I haven't had any friends here. And my family—” She growled, catching me by surprise. There was a hard look in her eyes as she stared mutinously at the wall. “I haven't had a family for six years.”

 

There was definitely a story there, but I didn't feel like now was the time to press the issue. The sick wolf seemed to be building up to a point already. “Go on.”

 

She sat forward, propping up her chin with her paws, elbows on her lap. “I'd just gotten so used to it. Used to being alone. Used to having nothing. But now you're here, and you're the biggest thing in my life.” She turned her head, finally looking at me. “I love you, Remmy, but I don't want my life to revolve around one person. Having you in my life is a change for the better, but it's making me think about all the things that haven't changed. I work, I come home, and I spend time with you. That's it.”

 

I nodded slowly. This… Was an awkward conversation, but I did my best to ignore that. “So, you want more out of life?” I questioned, deeply unused to this kind of philosophical reflection.

 

“ I want…” She shook her head. “I don't know what I want. But I know I don't want to exist with only one reason to live for. I always thought that things would get better when I found someone. And, they have,” she murmured, gracing me with a small smile, “But not all the way. Ugh, I don't know how to explain this.”

 

I scooted a little closer to her, leaning into her side. “I'm not really keeping up, either,” I admitted. “But I can keep trying until I understand.”

 

She smiled again, more genuine, and ruffled my head-wool. “You're a good sheep. I guess what I'm trying to say—” she started, glancing up at the ceiling. Her apartment was a little colder then usual, and she had all of the fans running. “— Is for so long, I'd gotten used to how my life was. And now that it's changing for the better, I wonder why I'm not changing, too. If— If I was still with my family, if I didn't live as a wolf among sheep, would I still be such a shut-in?”

 

I had absolutely no way to answer that question. I couldn't even begin to try. Obviously, Carrie had been plagued with more doubts then she usually let show. “Hey— That doesn't matter.” I reached up, taking her muzzle with one hoof and gently pulling it towards me. She didn't resist, and our eyes met. “It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're here now, and you don't have to be lonely anymore. I don't have to be the only one in your life, either: You can go out and meet new people, if you wanted. New friends.”

 

She sniffled, and I let her muzzle go. She nodded gratefully as she reached for another tissue. Once that was resolved, though, she turned back to me. “I probably could. Maybe… Maybe not around here, but somewhere.” She shook her head a little. “I was never social even before I cut ties with everyone I'd ever known. I don't remember how to socialize.”

 

I'd never really thought about what Carrie did when I wasn't here. Apparently, the answer was very little. I was starting to understand where she was coming from; I wouldn't want my life to revolve around one person, either. “We can work on that,” I promised. I had no idea where I'd even start, as I met most of the people I knew through unwilling circumstance, but I could still try to help. “And… What was that you said earlier, about me being too good for you?”

 

She winced. “I'd kind of hoped you'd forgotten that,” she muttered, staring down into her lap.

 

I nearly had. The wolf had put an awful lot on my mind. “Not quite.”

 

She didn't look up at me. “Well, it's like— everything I said. Without you, I'm kind of nothing. I'd just go back to working and existing. You're everything I ever wanted, and I don't feel like I deserve having you just— just breezing into my life, so easily.”

 

“ The only reason I'm what you want is because you have exceptionally low standards,” I replied with a wry grin, despite myself. “You have a lot of self-doubt, miss Gray.”

 

She gave a rough chuckle. “Sorry. I try not to bring it up— all it does is bring the mood down,” she murmured.

 

I shook my head, and leaned towards her, bumping her arm with my shoulder. Once I had her attention, and she was properly looking at me, I spoke. “I know you're not really good at this whole 'having people' thing, but it involves letting those people help you when you need it.”

 

It felt vaguely hypocritical for me of all people to be talking about this, since I wouldn't have accepted the Pack's help when I first moved in. Of course, being miserably sick and having Betty help nurse me back to health had proven that sometimes you needed someone else to help you, whether you liked it or not.

 

“ You know, offering to help me with all my problems doesn't make me feel any more worthy of you,” she mumbled, even as I could see her tail starting to perk up a little.

 

“ Well, you don't have to be 'worthy' of anyone. You just have to be you,” I replied, reaching up and ruffling her ears again. I liked her for  **her** , but I figured that would be a little sappy to actually admit.

 

“ Thanks, Remmy.” She reached over and pulled me into a full-on hug, apparently feeling better. “It's not usually a problem… Having you around usually gives me much better things to think about. It's just when I started being sick that I started really feeling like— I don't know. A relationship burden,” she admitted.

 

“ Well, you're not, so don't feel that way.” I didn't know what else to say. I hoped I didn't have to say anything else, really. “We could try going out sometime, if you want something new.”

 

She pushed me back a little, gazing into my eyes. “You mean it? Like, an actual date?”

 

Oh. I hadn't… Well, it didn't matter. “If you want it to be a date. We might have to switch plates, though,” I joked.

 

The canine grassbiter grinned at me. “We might get a few weird looks, you know. That okay with you?”

 

“ Believe me, I've gotten used to the weird looks back home,” I confirmed. I didn't really get them very often these days, but I still remembered what it felt like. “I don't really think we can take care of all these concerns of yours with a conversation, or a date, but I think we can work on them if they come up again. Deal?”

 

She looked a little nervous, so I moved a little closer, nuzzling noses with her. The simple act of physical intimacy seemed to calm her, and she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we can— try that,” she hesitantly agreed.

 

I swiped a fresh tissue from the box and rubbed my nose, just in case. Carrie seemed amused at the sight.

 

I glanced around, and reached past the wolf, plucking the TV remote from her other side. “But for now, I think we should go back to bed-rest. Or couch-rest, really.” She might not get much sleep on the couch, especially when she seemed to wake up just to snuggle against me, but that was probably equally as conductive to her health as sleeping, anyway.

 

“ You just like being lazy with me,” she accused, making no effort to stop me from opening the channel menu. She hadn't been watching it, anyway.

 

“ Maybe a little,” I acknowledged.

 

As we settled back into our routine, though, I started to wonder. My worries over her had been largely assuaged, now that I knew the score. She enjoyed my company as much as I did hers, but she was starting to wonder what she should be doing  _ other _ then spending time with me. I could sympathize.

 

She had asked a question, though. If not for her circumstances, would she still be who she was? A lonely mammal without any real hobbies?

 

Would I be the same ram I am today, if I wasn't a lone sheep among wolves? Would I be in any way interesting enough to be liked, like Carrie worried she wasn't?

 

I tossed the remote into her lap, ignoring the truly awful commercial playing. I didn't know the answer to that, but I supposed it didn't really matter. I had friends, a pack, and someone who was dear to me. The fact that Carrie was unconventional when it came to relationships wasn't really a problem.

 

In the end, 'what if' didn't matter when I was happy with what I had.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was... Very hastily rushed out for TT in a day. So, that's probably why it's not up to par with the rest, at least in terms of word-count.
> 
> I hadn't realized people cared about this series until I checked my inbox and noticed people were writing fanfiction of it. I felt obliged to continue!


End file.
